In the Forest
by CuteVampireCollie
Summary: I know it may seem stupid, but I need to talk to you. And maybe you think it's dumb to do so in a forest of all places, but it feels like home for me. I feel safe here. And I think I may love you. I'm not sure what's real and what's pretend anymore. I just know that I can't stand you pulling away from me. So don't pull away. Katniss/Peeta. Set during Catching Fire. Drabble/OOCness.


Holy, OMGS….just a drabble. I'm not even sure if it's a good drabble, but…we'll see, I guess. Hopefully the odds decide to be in my favor. XD Lol. Anyways…I'm HG obsessed so here's my little creation to show for it. Again, whether or not it's actually good, I don't know…

I do not own The Hunger Games. The series and characters belong to Suzanne Collins who is amazing and totally my muse. Enjoy!~

I drew in a deep breath, closing my eyes for only a moment before snapping them back open to make sure everything around me was still calm. With President Snow having made an appearance in District 12, no chances could be taken. So why was I here? Here of all places, now of all times? Waiting for _him?_ Why had I even asked him to come? Would he even bother with me?

I narrowed my eyes as I saw a deer snuffling the ground with its snout, completely unaware that a hunter was in its presence. Well, at least I could be considered a hunter if I had my bow and arrow with me. The animal should be thankful that I was currently unarmed. I was so tense and frustrated from all the pandemonium and madness that I really had the urge to just shoot something.

"Katniss." The hand on my shoulder caused me to jump, my body turning and my fist swinging out to make contact with the enemy, only the person now in front of me wasn't an enemy. And thankfully he was able to catch my fist in his hand mid-punch. "Peeta," I breathed. "I know you said you wanted to talk, but you never said anything about a fist fight." He gave me a small, lopsided grin and I almost, _almost_ felt my heart stop.

He never seemed to smile around me anymore unless it was in front of the cameras or if we had onlookers watching us. "Sorry. It's just…you scared me." He tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes questioning. "I know we've had a lot of time to talk lately, but that's only been in front of the cameras. I want to be able to talk and not have it be an act."

He flinched, his muscles immediately tensing at my words, but he did his best to keep his expression neutral. "Okay, so talk." I quickly reigned in a wince that I knew wanted to plaster itself to my face. He sounded so…cold. So unlike the Peeta I had come to know during our time in the arena.

I sighed and began walking farther into the forest, shrubs tickling my calves and feet, and I tentatively held out my hand toward him. I wasn't sure whether I was holding it out to motion for him to follow me, or if I was holding it out in the hopes that he would take it. When he started to follow me, his fingers ever so gently brushing mine, I felt my heart flutter like the wings of a mockingjay.

I didn't know what was going on. I was absolutely clueless as to what I was really feeling. All I knew was that ever since the end of the 74th Hunger Games, he'd slowly become distant, and I didn't like that. I didn't like it at all. When we had met up in the arena, sure, I had acted for the camera. I had pretended like I was in love with Peeta so we would get out alive. But now… I felt horrible for leading Peeta on. He surely hated me for it.

And I was starting to hate myself. I didn't know what I felt for him anymore. His hand, now completely wrapped around mine, was warm and calloused. And he smelled like freshly baked bread. Or maybe that was my imagination. I tried to focus on just the two of us in the forest. No Gale. No President Snow. No cameras. Just us.

"Katniss." I blinked, slowly coming back to awareness and fighting the urge to heave a tired sigh. I turned to face him, our hands breaking apart and dropping down to our respective sides. "Do you want to talk yet? Or do you just want to keep walking?" I clenched my eyes shut, willing my heart to stop its tossing and turning. "Why? Why do you have to keep acting like this even when the cameras aren't around?" His gaze dropped to the ground, the slowly moved to re-meet mine. "I already told you…what I feel for you is real. But I'm not sure how much longer I'm willing to keep this up when the cameras aren't around. I don't want you to be with me just because the Capitol expects it. If that's the case, I think I'd be better off dead."

He turned, marching toward a tree, planting his elbows on it and laying his face against the edge of the trunk. Which was a good thing, because a second ago I had thought he was going to punch it and very likely injure himself. "That's the thing, Peeta. I'm not sure what I feel anymore. If the cameras weren't following us everywhere then maybe I'd know, but...I just, I don't know. But I do know that not all of it is acting now."

He took a couple of deep breaths and pushed himself away from the tree, striding back toward me slowly. "Really?" Unsure of how to respond verbally, I nodded. He started to reach for my hand but paused, a look of utter confusion on his face. "The reason I wanted to talk to you today was because I wanted help figuring out how I really feel."

"And you think I can help?" he murmured softly. Maybe it was sappy and totally unlike me, but I gently forced our hands together, our fingers once again curling around each other. "I do."

And just like I did during our Game when we were in the cave, I leaned toward him and pressed our lips together. Except this time, there were no cameras or anxious audience. And I wasn't doing it so we could stay alive.


End file.
